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jxsterr · 5 months

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back at it again but this time i’m worked up thinking about zelink and sleeping as a way to deal with all of the trauma of immediate post calamity.

because, realistically, they are both going to be beyond exhausted. that fight took everything they had within them and more—link had been preparing for it for months on end without so much as a proper night’s rest, and zelda had been slaving away for the better part of a century using every ounce of energy within her to keep this beast at bay. so it’s pretty reasonable that the first thing the pair of them are going to yearn for is a bed and some damn good sleep now that blood moons won’t be knocking on the window every few days.

but just hear me out. for the first couple of days going on weeks link’s only priority is making sure zelda is okay. he cooks for her, makes sure she’s drunk enough water, and keeps the bedsheets clean and comfortable for her to collapse into them whenever she wants. she’s essentially bedbound for the first week, only ever able to really sit up to eat for a bit before the waves of exhaustion call for her to come crashing back down against her pillow—whether or not she wants to. she’s in no fit state to do anything, bless her, and he recognises that. he’s exhausted beyond reason himself but someone has to be the one sat beside her bed, ready to soothe the night terrors that inevitably creep their way into her unsuspecting mind. he doesn’t really care either. the woman who has haunted everything he’s come across in this world, whose presence has touched almost every memory he can conjure up, whose spirit he just can’t seem to shake because he knows there’s something there, a reason as to why he can’t help but heed her call no matter what he does, has just returned to him. the only surviving remnant of his past, the only face he so desperately wanted to see smile again for reasons he couldn’t dig up—of course nursing her back to health is his first priority.

but she worries about him too, about her knight turned friend who just won’t stop doing things for her despite the fact that she can see the very consequences of his fatigue etched deep into his skin. she wants so desperately for him to stop for a moment and sit with her and let her do something in amongst it all. he’s so much lighter than he used to be before he died but by hylia herself has he not shed the skin of a warrior. he laughs more, talks with a little less restraint, and pulls out all sorts of ridiculous things he’s accrued across his travels for her to marvel at while sat up in bed—all for shadows to have set so deeply under his eyes and his face to have lost a little bit of that roundness she’d grown so fond of. she can see how much he needs to sleep too, to rejuvenate again even though he would simply argue that all he’s done is sleep. she sees it when she peers over the loft banister and finds him, face against arms, asleep at the kitchen table, or when she wakes up and realises he’s fallen asleep sat on the floor with his head against the mattress again and all she can do is feel guilt that she has his bed and not him.

so one day she has enough. she waits until she’s settled into bed with him on a stool at her side, book in hand, otherwise he’ll fall asleep himself, and she plucks it unceremoniously from his hands and discards it on the bedside table. she waits until he looks at her thoroughly bewildered for her to finally muster up the courage to say, “i need you to sleep, link. i see how exhausted you are, i see how much you push yourself. i feel awful for being the only one in this bed, so please, do me a favour, and sleep beside me,” and stares at him with enough conviction to move mountains that her own eventually concedes and climbs in next to her.

it’s nothing more than two bodies sleeping next to one another for the first few days, but it’s enough that it makes a visible impact on the pair of them. zelda sleeps better, more soundly, with a considerable dip in the number of night terrors, while link himself finally just sleeps for the first time in what feels like years. it does them wonders. so much so, in fact, they sleep away the first two days entirely. link wakes up, groggy, and turns over with the intention of getting out of bed because goddess knows what time it is and she probably needs something to eat—but a sleep-ridden hand moves quick enough to land on his shoulder with something mumbled about ‘don’t leave’ and it’s so sincere and desperate that he gives in and turns back over, only for said hand to only still once it nestles itself against the palm of his hand. he’s too drowsy to even think much of it so he just curls his hand around hers in return until that signature hum of hers rings out to signify that her wants have been quelled.

it continues like that, small increases in physical affection, until it’s the norm to absolutely entangle themselves in one another. until zelda is able to do more around the house but potters down the loft stairs in search of him to tug gently at his arm and tell him that she’s tired—a silent ask to come to bed with her even if it’s the middle of the day—and he obliges every time. it’s nice, being this useless to the world, enough where they can gather as much of themselves as they need to by merely sleeping the days away. until their mornings are signified by the raise of the moon and the slow bleed of pinks and oranges into the sky signalling their retreat to bed.

every nap goes the same, too. zelda scoots herself into the inner side of the bed and lays with arms outstretched, waiting for her knight to come clambering in between them so she may wrap them tightly around his warm body and pull him close until his face is nestled deeply into her chest, protecting him the way she’s always wanted to. she may not be able to wield a sword, but she can protect his open heart for as long as her hand weaves through his locks until she feels his body go slack against her. she likes her corner, he likes the safety of her arms, it works perfectly.

impa doesn’t appreciate just how long it’s taken them to realise they’ve been sleeping away the days for over a month now, and thus are visiting late, but it’s hard to object when her princess is sparkling and link looks more like himself than he ever has.

#zelink analysis #long post my bad #hello im back again with the sickness #this time its trauma coping flavoured #zelda x link #legend of zelda #tears of the kingdom #loz link #link #loz zelda #zelda and link #princess zelda #zelink #zelda tears of the kingdom #botw totk #breath of the wild

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ghosttownwherenoonegoes · 2 years

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For everyone who wants to hug Wayne Munson // gn!reader // you're dating Eddie & friendly with his bestest uncle💖

Imagine waking up at four or five in the morning so that you have plenty of time to cook Eddie and Wayne some PROPER food. You're up so early so that Wayne will be able to walk in to a hot meal, and some others already cooled and away in the freezer and fridge.

Eddie wakes up to an empty bed at around six (he can't sleep without you) and walks in to a chaotic kitchen; you, wearing your pyjamas, with multiple pots and pans on the go, some dirty dishes in the sink, some stuff on the draining board, some food already out in containers, cooling. You have a cool and level head and Eddie doesn't dare disturb you. He doesn't know what you're doing, so he just grabs some coffee and sits down on the one stool at the counter to watch you.

A half hour ticks passed before you turn off the hob, stepping back to see what needs to be done. You drain water from some pots, scoop sauces and meats out from others, portions things out in containers... Eddie's getting dizzy just watching you and he marvels at what you're doing (in reality, you only have three or four pots on the go, but you're picking them up, putting them down, swanning over here, grabbing this thing from here, and he can't keep track of you).

When you're all done and there are twelve some containers stacked on the side, Eddie comes up behind you and wraps his arm around your waist, kissing you good morning and snuggling into your neck. "What - is all this, babe? How long have you been up?"

"Got up at four. Wanted to cook you and Wayne some meals so you didn't have to have microwaved stuff all the time. Not that there's anything wrong with that, but I just - "

Eddie leaves your embrace and you think you've done something wrong but then hands are on you and lips are kissing yours and you melt into each other. "You are something else, Y/N." The reverence in Eddie's voice matches the stars in his eyes as he pulls away from you. "Talk to me," He makes a vague hand gesture towards the food, and you list out all the dishes you made him and his uncle.

"I made enough for four days' meals for the two of you, if you both eat one three times a day. Or you could freeze some." You shrugged. "I don't know, I just... want you to be happy, safe and healthy."

Eddie does his best to help you with the washing, drying and putting away, and by the time seven rolls around and Wayne strolls in home, you and Eddie are mostly done and just about to divide the food between the fridge and the freezer.

Wayne stops and you can almost track his thought process by the way he takes in the food, looks at you, looks at Eddie, looks at the sink, and sighs heavily. "What're you kids up to?"

Eddie shook his head, curls flying like lightning. "Nope, nope, this is aaaaall Y/N! Been up since four this morning making us," he gestured between himself and Wayne with a finger, "food for the next four days." His voice has an upwards lilt as he draws out the 'four', thinking on his feet. "Wants us happy."

Wayne freezes.

His eyes land on you for long enough that you grow to be slightly uncomfortable. You can't read his gaze, the set of his jaw, the way his thumb and forefinger rub together.

Finally, when you can't take it anymore. "Uhh, Eddie...?" I think I broke your uncle.

Eddie chuckles, grabs your hand and squeezes it. "Give him a second, sweetheart."

His boy's voice shakes him out of his reverie and Wayne holds his arms out to you, "Thanks for taking care o'my boy an' me. Dunno where we'd be without ya'."

You can almost hear Eddie's smile, flushing at being called Wayne's son, and you step forward, accepting the embrace. You squeeze your arms around the red and blue plaid shirt and Wayne ducks his head, leaning into the hug with you. He's warm, smells of the plant he works in, and you can feel his exhaustion. A few moments tick past, long enough for Eddie to come forward and rest his head against Wayne's shoulder in a half-hug (and the hand that was on your back moves to ruffle Eddie's hair), and the phrase, welcome to the family crosses your mind.

#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson #wayne munson #wayne munson headcanon #stranger things 4

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fortheloveofbuddie · 2 months

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WIP Wednesday ✨

Look at me posting two days in a row 🔥 This is another bit of the insomnia fic that I wanted to share with you guys 🤭

Read the previous snippet(s) here 💕 They aren’t in order or anything, I’m just sharing what feels right 🫶

Every night since then, he had laid awake, staring at the ceiling, feeling as if the walls of the well were collapsing all around him again.

He tries to tell himself that it doesn’t matter, that he’ll be able to shake it off eventually. And he has to be strong for Christopher right now, so he doesn’t have time to be feeling like this. In the past week, he had maybe gotten a total of 12 hours of sleep, if even that, unable to find rest in his body.

At work, life goes on as usual, with everyone cracking jokes and teasing each other to no end. It’s like what happened to him didn’t actually happen. Or well, they all express concern for him and he says that he’s fine. Because he is fine. He didn’t get injured and he didn’t die, which makes him perfectly fine. Buck has been over a few times during the week, eating dinner with him and Christopher, clearly more worried than the rest of the crew. Eddie had noticed the crease between Buck’s brows deepening when he explained what had happened with Christopher. It wasn’t new that Christopher got nightmares, not after Shannon and the tsunami but it had gotten better. Right up until Eddie almost died in a fucking well.

As he puts Christopher to bed, he considers asking if he can lay in the bed with him but then stops himself. He doesn’t want Christopher to think that something is wrong. Eddie is well aware of how he wakes up during the night, beads of sweat running down his forehead and his shirt clinging to his back, his mouth dry and his breath heaving as he looks around the darkness of his bedroom.

Instead, he settles for laying down on the couch, the tv muted as he finds some random show to watch.

The flickering on the screen seems to ease his mind, keeping the empty abyss of the well away. For the first time since it happened, he is able to fall asleep within minutes but it’s a restless sleep and he wakes up with a gasp, suddenly alone in the darkness again. He clutches onto his shirt, air struggling to make its way into his lungs as he scrambles for his phone, needing just a hint of light. The heavy thud of his phone landing on the floor next to him reverberates in his head and he can’t focus, can’t remember what he was doing as he crawls onto the floor, hands scrambling in the dark.

They start to feel cold, tingling and almost numb. Eddie knocks his head back against the couch, trying to ground himself.

I’m not down there anymore.

I’m at home.

I’m safe.

I made it.

Tagged by @bidisasterbuckdiaz @tizniz @bucksbignaturals @cal-daisies-and-briars @daffi-990 and @diazsdimples 🥰

Tagging!! @honestlydarkprincess @steadfastsaturnsrings @wikiangela @theotherbuckley @thewolvesof1998 @wildlife4life @butraura @puppyboybuckley @evanbegins @monsterrae1 @hippolotamus @spotsandsocks @namjroon @nmcggg @jesuisici33 @slightlyobsessedwitheverything @devirnis @bucksbirthmark @rogerzsteven @giddyupbuck @eddiebabygirldiaz @exhuastedpigeon @kaseysgirl86-blog @poughkeepsies @watchyourbuck @dangerpronebuddie @elvensorceress @jeeyuns 🦋🩵

Tagged for reader @coatedpanda16 ✨

#buddie #eddie diaz #evan buckley #911 on abc #buddie wip #the insomnia fic #someone help me brain storm a title lol #i love this fic sm and i just wanna finish it #but its exam season so we all know what that means

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etherealyoungk · 1 year

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soft mingyu scenario

you’ve had a really rough and tiring week and all you want is to sleep and get some well-needed rest and a break. you haven’t even been able to see mingyu for the past week because you were so busy. so, when it’s finally the weekend, you get off work and head home, hoping to get some good rest and hopefully get to see mingyu too.

but what you don’t know mingyu is already at your place, preparing a hearty, wholesome meal for you and he's so happy about finally getting to see you too. you enter your apartment and see the lights on, and as you remove your shows, your eyes trail over to see mingyu’s shoes neatly lined up. you're heart instantly jumps a little at the thought of mingyu being here. you walk in to see a set table filled with hot food and mingyu smiling upon seeing you. “baby”, he says with a smile. you softly smile and walk towards him. ��come eat, i made dinner. you must be tired”, he says, helping you take off your coat and guiding you to your seat, pecking your cheek as you sit down and mingyu is just all smiles, making you smile too.

mingyu is asking you about your day and you just nod saying it was okay as you look at the food in front of you and pick up a fork. mingyu starts telling you something about the food and you slowly take a tiny bite, only to start tearing up. mingyu is telling you something about the dish but you’re not listening as your vision gets blurry before the tears roll down your cheeks.

you're so overwhelmed with emotions at that moment that the only thing you can do is cry. mingyu stops speaking when he hears you sniffle. “y/n?...are you crying?”, he asks unsure and you only let out a few more soft sobs in response. mingyu moves closer to you as he wraps his arms around you. “what’s wrong love? is it not good?”, he asks, worried. you shake your head. “no that’s not it”, you manage to say as you sniffle. “i had such a rough week, this is the nicest thing someone has done for me all week”, you say looking at him as another tear escapes and rolls down. his gaze softens as he gently wipes away your tears before bringing you in for a hug as he engulfs you in his arms. "is there anything i can do to make you feel better?", he asks. "maybe a kiss or two", you tell softly and he smiles. "of course, i can do that", he tells, leaning in to kiss you. he'll shower soft kisses all over your face until you're finally smiling and giggling. will make you french toast as an extra treat because he loves you and will spoil you the whole weekend <3

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starlitmark · 10 months

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Summary: Miyoung is up late with an upset tummy, so Jaemin stays up with her. Though, your husband wakes up not feeling so great the next morning. Pairing: cashmere lop!Jaemin x fem human!reader Genre: fluff, slice of life Tropes: parent au, hybrid au Rating: PG Warning: mentions of surgeries, mentions of hospitals, sickness (vomiting, fever, etc), mentions of medication Word Count: 1,874 Note: enjoy this bunny!Jaemin fic <;3 @raibebe wanted this so badly when I was with her last week, and I finally got around to finishing it!

Neo Hybridverse Masterlist || Cashmere Lop!Jaemin Masterlist

It was another exhausting day at the hospital. In his one 13-hour rotation, Jaemin had performed seven surgeries on a variety of his patients. The most gruesome was an open heart surgery on one of his three-year-old patients. He huffs as he turns his key in the lock and steps into his rather quiet home. At least, it should’ve been quiet. Instead, he’s greeted with the sound of Miyoung mumbling and whining. The two-year-old bunny hybrid should have been asleep for a long time now. She’s always been a great sleeper too, so the fact that she was awake was very out of the ordinary.

Walking down the hall quietly, he stops in your shared bedroom to change into something cleaner and more comfortable. In the end, Jaemin opts just to wear a comfortable pair of sweatpants and a T-shirt. He still can hear his daughter mumbling and whining about something. A few steps down the hall, he finds you with your daughter in her bedroom.

You turn toward Jaemin, and you know it’s clear how exhausted you are. You’ve been holding this bucket in Miyoung’s lap for at least the past hour and a half as she cries and whines, occasionally interrupting herself with another spout of throwing up. You’re about to fill in your husband on the evening’s events, but you hear your two-year-old start to gag again. You whip your head around and immediately pull her thick black hair and long, fuzzy tan ears out of her face. It’s not a pretty sight, to say the very least. The moment she’s finished with this most recent spout of sickness, she sees her dad and immediately begins sobbing.

“Daddy!” she practically yells between hiccups.

Jaemin’s already beside her on her small toddler bed before she fully calls for him. He scoops her up into his lap and does his best to soothe her sobs. Miyoung isn’t a huge fan of anyone touching her ears unless it’s you, your husband, or her best friend, Haneul. Anyone other than that, she’ll scream bloody murder at for touching her. So, when Jaemin starts gently running his hand over her ears, she instantly begins to calm down.

“How long has she been getting sick?” Jaemin asks softly, rocking the two-year-old in his lap.

“Maybe two hours…” you explain, “She ate dinner fine; just didn’t want to eat some of the fruits. She went to sleep fine. Then I woke up to the sound of gagging followed by splattering just outside our bedroom door.”

“Medicine?” your husband questions.

“You can try, but she’s been getting sick quite a bit.”

Jaemin nods, ears flopping forward as he does so, “You go back to sleep. I can handle it.”

“Jaemin, are you sure? You just got home and-”

“I got it. You have to go back to the hospital in the morning, I’m just on call tomorrow.”

You sigh, knowing that you won’t be able to convince him to go to bed. You lean up on your knees and kiss Miyoung’s head. The little bunny hybrid is still sniffling slightly as she finally reaches the end of her much-needed calm down. Then, you lean over more to give your husband a kiss goodnight. You know he’ll find his way into your bedroom once your daughter is finally feeling well enough to sleep peacefully. You exit the room and finally process just how exhausted you actually are. It doesn’t take long for you to succumb to sleep once you’re in your bed again.

“Can we go take some medicine real quick, Mimi?” Jaemin asks gently

She shakes her head and tries to bury her face further into her dad’s shirt, “It’s yucky.”

“It’ll make you feel better, though, sweetheart.” he explains, “It’ll make your angry tummy feel happy again.”

He can almost see the cogs turning in her little mind. Eventually, she nods. That’s all Jaemin needs to see before standing up (still holding her close to his chest) and making his way to the medicine cabinet in the bathroom. The toddler is already half asleep on his shoulder by the time they walk down the short hallway. It’s painfully obvious that she’s not feeling her best, but Jaemin knows he has to get this medicine in her system before she fully crashes for the night. Somehow, he manages to open and pour the medication with one hand before placing the small cup on the countertop.

“Mi,” he whispers, nudging his shoulder slightly to wake her, “Can I put you down to take this really quick?”

Miyoung mumbles something in her delirious half-asleep state that sounds something like a yes. Placing her down, Jaemin is immediately met with whines of protest from his daughter. Still, he gets her to take the medicine and praises her for taking it so well before carrying her back into her bedroom. She’s already asleep by the time he places her in her small bed and covers her. Her oversized ears are splayed out against her pillow, and soft snores escape her mouth once in a while. He looks at her with eyes that can only be described as sparkling with pure love for his child. Jaemin stands there for a moment, just watching her finally peacefully before moving quietly around the small room to clean up. He pokes his head back into the toddler’s room when he finishes. For a moment, he debates leaving her to rest on her own. That moment flees very quickly as he finds himself stepping into her room and getting as comfortable as he can with his head resting against her mattress. It’s not the most comfortable, but at least he can ensure that he’ll be right there for her if she wakes up and gets sick again.

You wake up and reach over to cuddle up against Jaemin, only to find that he’s not beside you. Panic rushes through your body for a moment before you process that he could very well be in Miyoung’s room. You trudge out of your room and poke your head in to see both your bunnies asleep on Miyoung’s bed. Jaemin is clearly too large to be sleeping in such a cramped, awkward way. He’d do anything for your little girl, though. He has an arm across her body, and his fingers just barely graze against her furry ears, subconsciously petting them slightly even in his sleep.

Your presence must’ve been detected by your husband, though, because he shifts a moment later and opens his eyes. Something’s not right about him, and you already know it. He doesn’t say a word as he stands and shuffles toward you. You study his body language and notice how he’s making no effort to move his ears out of his face as he moves. Jaemin simply stops in front of you and drops his head on your shoulder.

“I caught something overnight.” his voice is rumbly from sleep still but clearly very stuffy too.

You chuckle and pet his hair gently, “You go lay down in your own bed, and I’ll get you some tea.”

He nods and snuggles into the crook of your neck for a moment before continuing on his way to your shared bed. The quiet morning doesn’t last long, though. As you’re making the tea, you hear excited small footsteps barreling down the hallway. Clearly, your two-year-old is better and ready to play already.

“Momma, momma, momma!” you hear her call, “‘M all better!”

“I see that baby bun.” you chuckle, lowering your voice to a whisper, “We need to be quiet, though. Daddy doesn’t feel very good now. He’s sleeping.”

Miyoung thinks for a moment before looking up at you with big sparkly eyes. Those eyes could make you move mountains if she asked you to.

“I’m Daddy’s doctor?” she asks with a pout in her voice.

“You wanna take care of Daddy?” you ask back. She nods, “Okay, sweetie, I’ll take Daddy his tea, then you can help me get other things we need to help him feel all better.”

“Med-cine!” she shouts suddenly.

“You mean medicine? We don’t know if Daddy needs medicine yet, though.” you explain.

She pouts and stomps her foot against the floor. It’s a new bunny habit she’s discovered recently, and she’s milking it while she can. Miyoung reaches up toward you, asking to be picked up. You happily oblige. Her small finger points toward the cabinet where all the daily medications, like allergy medicine, are.

“Daddy, med-cine.” she restates.

You’re not sure what she could get for him out of this cabinet to help him, but you indulge her still. Opening the cabinet, she immediately reaches forward and grabs a brightly colored container. It’s her vitamins.

“Make Daddy all better!”

“You think?” she nods at you, “We can bring it with his tea and see what he says.”

You put her down and watch as she happily runs with the container toward your bedroom. You follow close behind with Jaemin’s tea. When you turn into your bedroom, you find her struggling to climb up on the bed while still holding the container of vitamins. Jaemin’s awake and notices her. He sits up, reaches to pick her up, and asks her what she has in her hands.

“Daddy med-cine!” she enthuses.

“Baby, those are your vitamins.” he explains, interrupting himself with a cough, “Do you think your vitamins can help me feel all better?”

She puffs her cheeks in a pout before nodding, “All better.” she insists.

You chuckle as you approach them, placing Jaemin’s tea on his side table, “Here’s your tea. I’ll go get you some actually decongesting medicine.” you lean over and kiss his forehead, “And the thermometer… and the fever reducer just in case we need it. You better stay in bed. I’ll call out so you aren’t sick and trying to take care of Miyoung.” you offer.

Miyoung urges the bottle of vitamins towards him again, “Daddy, take med-cine!”

“How about a kiss from my doctor instead? That’ll make me feel much better.” he chuckles despite his ill state.

He sniffles for a moment before he has a lap-full of toddler. Miyoung gives him a very wet kiss on the cheek. By the time you return with the necessary things, you’re greeted with Jaemin’s (still sick-sounding) laughter and Miyoung littering kisses across her dad’s face. She knows he’ll stop her from trying to kiss his lips because he doesn’t feel good. As affectionate as the both of them are, Jaemin makes it very clear that if you, he or Miyoung doesn’t feel well, she can’t give them kisses on the lips, or she’ll get sick too. She knows that rule very well after catching the flu from you despite her dad’s warning. You watch them silently for a moment. Nothing could make these moments more precious other than everyone being healthy, of course.

“Thank you, my Mimi. I’m all cured now, thanks to your kisses.” he smiles brightly at her.

You know he’s playing into her slightly, but he means his words still. It might not be cured in a physical sense, but emotionally, having Miyoung is the most healing thing both you and Jaemin could ever ask for.

Networks: @kwritersworld @k-vanity

Tag List: @raibebe @jaehunnyy @umbralhelwolf @wooyoungmybelovedhusband

#jaemin fluff #kwritersworldnet #kvanity #nct fanfic #nct x reader #nct fluff #nct dream fanfic #nct dream x reader #nct dream fluff #jaemin fanfic #jaemin x reader

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oneweirdbookaddict · 8 months

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Whumptober day twelve!

Wind can't sleep. Twi helps him out.

1127 words

No warnings.

~~~~

“Morning, Twi, the old man wants to get going soon. Should get some breakfast.”

He sits up, managing a nod as he rubs his eyes.

Four moves on to wake Sky, always a difficult feat.

He stands, joins the others by the remnants of a fire, glancing at the group before sitting next to Wind. The sailor has dark circles around his eyes, staring off into space.

These past few days, Wind’s seemed… a little off. He was quiet, seeming exhausted, more irritable than usual. Something was going on.

“Hey, you look tired.” he notes, sitting next to the sailor.

Wind blinks slowly, blue eyes flicking to him.

“Huh? Oh… yeah, guess so.”

“Didn’t sleep well last night? You were the last to sleep.” He pushes. Wind just shrugs.

He lets it go.

Eats breakfast, packs up camp, keeping an eye on the sailor all morning.

But… he doesn’t seem much different than usual.

Walks in his usual center of the group, as usual. Talks to Four on and off, which also is usual.

Wind’s eyes flick to him, busting him watching.

He looks away.

But nothing happens until lunch.

Time calls for a break late, they find a spot to make a fire, and sit around as the champion cooks.

He’s talking with Wars, who frowns and trails off mid sentence.

“Wars?” He asks, following his gaze- oh.

Wind.

Leaning against a tree, book in his hands, though his head is drooped, eyes closed- and they snap back open, head snapping up, rubbing his eyes dazedly.

They watch as this happens again. And again.

“I want to wrap him in a blanket and… read him a bedtime story.” Wars says, shaking his head.

He laughs, surprised. “He would not appreciate that.”

“Oh, come on, Rancher, I think I could do it.” Wars snorts.

“Yeah, my money’s still on him.” He grins. Wars laughs, and they go back to their conversation until-

“Lunch is ready.” Wild informs them, and Hyrule gives a cheer that makes them laugh.

Wait while the champion dishes out food- “I’ve still got a bowl, who… where’s Wind?”

He glances back- yep, Wind hadn’t moved at all.

“I’ve got him.” He says, standing and moving over to the other.

The sailor’s head leans against a tree, body curled up tightly. Eyes closed, breathing even.

“Sailor.” He says quietly, nudging his friend.

“ ‘m up, ‘m up…” Wind mumbles, batting his hand away and rubbing his eyes.

Squints blearily at him, seeming confused.

“Hey… you alright? You dozed off.”

“Mhm… wha’time’sit?”

“It’s just past noon, Wild finished lunch. Want to eat something?”

Another frown, but Wind nods. Stands, stumbling slightly.

He reaches out quickly, but the sailor waves him away and joins the others at the fire.

“Morning, sleeping beauty.” Wars grins. Wind rolls his noticeably bloodshot eyes, plopping down next to Sky.

“You sleep ok last night? Not like you to fall asleep like that.” The skyloftian says.

“You look awful.”

They all stare at Hyrule.

“Erm. Exhausted. You look… exhausted.” The traveller says sheepishly.

And… well, the sailor does. He’s pale, which only worsens the dark circles around bloodshot eyes. And this has been going on for a few days- just… dozing off, seeming exhausted.

He’s uncoordinated, memory shot, confused easily. It’s not like him at all- he’s always so put together.

“I… haven’t slept in days.” Wind confesses quietly.

It doesn’t come as a shock.

“How many?” Time asks.

“Stopped counting.” The sailor shrugs.

So quite a few.

“Is… something going on? Having nightmares or something?”

“No… just… can’t. Like… I’m exhausted. I just… can’t sleep.” Wind shrugs. “It’s not a big deal.”

“It… kind of is.” Wars disagrees. “You need sleep. You’re already struggling. Want to stop for today, let you at least rest?”

“No.” Wind shakes his head. “Really. I’m ok. Just… tired. We don’t need to stop.”

“Will you be able to fight if you need to?” Time asks, and the sailor hesitates.

“Y-”

“Will you be able to fight to your usual ability?”

Wind looks away.

Rubs his eyes slowly, sighing. But shakes his head.

At least he’s willing to admit it.

Too often someone in the group refuses to admit they need a break, a rest, an accommodation of any sort. Even he’s guilty of that.

If Wind’s admitting to that… it must be bad.

“Alright. We’ll stop for today. You rest. Try to get some sleep.” Time says, and the sailor nods with a sigh. Though he looks slightly relieved.

They eat, Wind leaning back against a tree again and sighing.

Eyes closing, but he keeps shifting. For an hour. Lays on the ground with the same result. Another deep sigh.

Then another.

“Want a blanket or anything?” Wars suggests. Wind sighs again. But stands, drags himself to their pile of stuff, grabbing his blanket and flopping down on it with a small ‘oomph.’

But just tosses and turns for a while. Gives up, pulling his book out again.

Stares at it, then sighs deeply and puts it away.

He gives a questioning glance to the sailor.

“Too tired to read it.” Wind mumbles.

He moves to sit next to the kid.

“Anything I can do for you?” He asks softly, and Wind shakes his head.

He hesitates. Then- “Do you… want to talk about what’s bothering you?”

Wind pauses. Then, completely unconvincingly- “Nothing’s bothering me.”

He looks at Wind. Wind looks at him.

“Ok.” He shrugs. “Can I have a hug, then?”

The sailor freezes. Slowly sits up, watching him, but nods slowly and moves into his arms.

He wraps his around the kid, pulling him close and holding him gently.

Wind slowly relaxes. Even leans into him, head resting on his shoulder.

Then the kid’s crying.

Shoulders shaking, sniffling quickly, face tucking into his chest.

“Sorry- sorry, ‘m sorry-” Wind chokes, voice breaking.

“Shh… nothing to be sorry for, Sailor, you’re ok. Just… take your time.” He says softly.

“ ‘m just tired, ‘m fine, I-”

“Shh… breathe, Wind. You don’t need to explain. It’s fine, really. Shh…”

Another soft sniffle.

But the kid’s arms wrap around him, hands tugging at the back of his tunic.

Takes a few slow breaths, sniffling again.

He thinks he’s calmed down, then Wind’s shoulders start shaking again.

Sobbing, really, just desperately trying to hide it.

“You’re allowed to cry, Wind, you don’t need to explain anything. Just take your time, get it all out.” He says gently, the sailor curling into him more.

It takes a while, but Wind slowly calms.

Doesn’t move, but breathes slower and isn’t shaking with suppressed sobs anymore.

Just leans on his chest, sniffling ever so softly.

But those slowly fade, too.

Then they sit in silence, him slowly rubbing the kid’s back.

~~~~

#whumptober 2023 #whumptober2023 #no. 12 #fanfic #fic #linked universe #linkeduniverse #lu twilight #lu wind #wind lu #linked universe wind #wind linked universe #twilight lu #insomnia #I haven’t slept in days

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drmaddict · 1 year

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Can I touch your hair?

Summary: Steven is curious about readers short hair.

Warnings: fluff, sleep deprived Tony Stark beeing Tony Stark

I was sitting in the common room of the avengers tower listening to my podcast, drinking my coffee. My dad Tony had only shuffled past me 5 minutes ago into his room to go to sleep. God only knows how long he had been awake again.

Steve had joined me, having already completed his usual exercise routine. He was sketching something in his pad while eating his breakfast.

He was watching me. As he had been doing on and off for the past few weeks, out of the corner of his eye. Probably thought he was being subtle.

"Can I ask you something?", I asked, stopping my podcast.

He nodded. "Why are you looking at me like that all the time?"

He faltered before shaking his head. "Nothing." he smiled politely and minimally pushed his sketchbook away from me.

"Oh come on. I'm a big girl. I can handle it," I teased. "What do I do to pique the interest of the great Captain America?"

He kneaded his hands. "Can I touch your hair?" he blurted out. Immediately he squinted his eyes and turned bright red. "Never mind. Sorry. That was...forget it," he stammered.

"My hair?", I laughed. "Why?"

He just continued to shake his head. "I'm sorry. That was uncalled for. You don't ask things like that."

By now he resembled a ripe tomato. I'd be lying if I said it wasn't the cutest thing I'd ever seen. "Deep breath big guy. You're very welcome, but I'd still like to know why." I leaned further toward him, resting my head on my fist.

He looked cautiously at me. "They're just so short... And I... Back in my days, women hardly ever had short hair. Not that short at least... And if they did, they were in movies, or in photos, but I never knew anyone... No woman with hair that short and...", he left the sentence unfinished.

"And you're just curious. That's okay," I smiled at him. "You asked me if you could touch my hair, not if you could touch my boobs." He seemed on the verge of collapsing at that comment. "Most people don't even ask. They just mop through it. So knock yourself out." I smiled encouragingly at him and patted his hand.

He lifted it hesitantly and gently stroked along my short bangs before reaching further up and pushing his fingertips through the short strands. "So soft." he smiled.

"You're lucky there's no gel in it.", I smiled. He slid his hand to the back of my head and then on to the trimmed out nape. Most people didn't treat me this tenderly. There was a seductive ease. There was awe in his touch and I surrendered to it. I closed my eyes with relish, enjoying the gentle caress of his fingers on my neck.

"Hey!" a shrill voice snapped us out of our little bubble. My dad was standing in front of us still with dark circles under his eyes, staring at us in bewilderment. "Film that soft porn in one of your rooms, will you!"

"Don't be so dramatic," I sighed.

Dad just shook his head. "That's my daughter! Don't you ever think about the bro-code man?" he shook his head in mock disappointment. "Don't you dare dishonor her. I want to see a ring on that finger! Got it?"

"Dad go to sleep.", I said firmly.

"I'm fine."

"Friday how long has he been up?", I asked.

"Sixty-eight hours miss." came the immediate reply.

"Go to bed!", I ordered.

"All right." he grumbled. "You're almost like Pepper.", he grumbled inarticulately into his beard on his way out.

I shook my head with a sigh. I looked at Steve, who was bright red again, and grinned. "And was I able to satisfy your curiosity?", I asked jokingly. He just nodded without looking at me and quickly took a sip of his coffee.

"Friday showed me the pictures you drew of me, by the way. They're really good."

He choked on his coffee, a small amount shooting through his nose.

I laughed. "How do you feel about dinner?"

#captain america #fluffy #short hair #short haired!reader #pixiecut!reader #chris evans #chris evans character fanfiction #chris evans characters #chris evans character x reader #steve rogers #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers x you #steve rogers fanfiction #steve rogers imagine

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callsignspark · 11 months

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Mar[r]y Me | part 3.5

pairing: Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw x Mariella “M&M” Vertucci (fem!OC)

summary: A love story told through friendship, laughter, and food.

series warnings: 18+ minors DNI, discussion of insecurities, difficult and extremely unsupportive family relationships, discussions of food and alcohol use, eventual smut, warnings to be added as needed

word count: 2.4k

previous part | series masterlist | main masterlist

note: it’s Bradley’s birthday! to celebrate this is a one shot/continuation of part three! originally this was supposed to be part of part three, but it got cut during editing. however, I really love this and I could let it just sit in a doc. so, I spruced her up some, added some more detail and viola!

part 3.5 - panera bread

The walk through the parking garage goes by too fast for Bradley’s liking. Too soon he’s having to drop Mary’s hand to open the passenger door, making sure she’s settled before closing it and getting in himself. “Alright, next stop Panera.”

“Hopefully, it’s not too busy…” She trails off when his hand brushes her neck, checking behind him as he’s backing up and not even noticing his effect.

He hums, braking so an elderly couple can cross. “It’s a little after seven, so I don’t think it’ll be bad - we should have beat the dinner rush. Clear that way?”

“After this white SUV, you’re good.”

The drive is comfortable, the radio occasionally interrupted by quiet conversation. They run into traffic on the highway, an accident taking four lanes down to one, and when they arrive at the restaurant, Bradley realizes Mary has fallen asleep in his front seat. He goes through the motions of parking and turning the car off, hoping she’ll have woken up from all the noise by the time he gets to her side. She doesn’t.

“Mary?” He gently shakes her shoulder, but she doesn’t budge.

He sighs, feeling bad about waking her up. She hasn’t gotten much sleep the past few days, but he knows she needs to eat more than she needs to sleep right now. From the second the decision was made to go to the hospital, Mary had been on the phone coordinating behind the scenes. Making arrangements for Dani’s parents to fly in from Philadelphia and picking them up when their flight got in at midnight. She had kept the Daggers updated with the latest; news coming into a specially created group chat as soon as she knew it. She watched Annie taking care of the four-year-old as if she were her own child. She had done all of that, and more, so that Danielle and Reuben could fully focus on the arrival of their newest family member without worry.

“Mary? Mary, c’mon, you gotta wake up so we can eat.” He unbuckles her seatbelt, smoothing some hair off her forehead. The touch wakes her up. Bleary eyes meet his, her nose scrunching up in distaste at being awake, and a small whine escapes her throat as the parking lot lights glare in her face. Bradley instantly feels himself soften.

“Okay, honey, you stay here, and I’ll get the food. What do you want?”

He gives her brain a minute to come back online, appreciating how cute she looks as her pretty brown eyes blink at him in confusion. “Uhh… Greek salad with chicken, extra olives, and no tomatoes, please.”

“Greek salad with chicken, extra olives, and no tomatoes. Anything else?”

“No, thank you.” Her eyes are already getting heavy, and she lets out a little yawn.

“Okay, buckle back up, and you hang out here. I’ll be back in a few minutes.” He hands the seatbelt to her, making sure he hears the click before shutting and locking the car.

His phone is up to his ear and ringing as he walks up to the ordering kiosk, thankful he parked in a space where he’ll be able to keep eyes on the car the entire time he’s inside.

“Rooster, is everything okay?”

“Yeah, we’re fine. What else does she like from Panera? She asked for a salad, but that doesn’t seem like enough if she hasn’t eaten since yesterday.”

“Why aren’t you asking her?”

“She fell asleep on the way here, and I felt bad enough waking her up to ask what she wanted, so she’s sleeping in the car with the doors locked.”

There’s a moment of silence so long that Bradley checks to make sure he didn’t get disconnected. “Payback?”

“She likes the mac and cheese, that wild rice chicken soup, and the turkey avocado sandwich. But what’s most important is that whatever you get doesn’t have tomato on it.”

“Is she allergic?” He pauses his tapping on the menu pad, glancing outside to check on Mary.

“No, she just doesn’t like raw tomato on sandwiches and salads. It’s a texture thing.” There’s murmuring on the line. “Yeah, like Dani said. She likes the iced papaya green tea, so get her one of those. And a cinnamon crunch bagel for breakfast tomorrow since she didn’t get to go grocery shopping like she usually does. And just Venmo me for whatever you get her; we owe her big time.”

“Nah, I got it this time.”

“Oh, Rooster!” Dani’s voice comes through clearer. “Remind her that she needs to get gas in the Jeep before work tomorrow; she’s running low.”

“I’ll just fill it up for her after we get home.” He mutters, trying to decide whether to get two or three lemon drop cookies.

“Damn, you are down bad, aren’t you? Just remember what we talked about earlier, dude.”

“Reuben, trust me, the last thing I want to do is hurt her.” He fumbles to grab his wallet, trying to hold his phone and their cups at the same time. “Alright, man, I gotta go. I’ll text you when I get her home.”

He pays and almost runs over an older man as he moves to fill their cups. “I’m sorry about that, sir. Wasn’t watching where I was going.”

“That’s alright; you were just keeping an eye on your girlfriend. I get it.”

“Oh, I- uh-”

“Your eyes have been glued to her since you walked away from your car - which is a beauty, by the way.” He claps Bradley on the shoulder. “Girl is even prettier; don’t mess that up, son.”

“Yes, sir.” His face hasn’t been this hot since Mav came home from work early and caught him making out with his first girlfriend in the living room.

Bradley finishes grabbing the food in a daze, thinking about what it would be like if the woman sleeping in his car really was his.

Mary shifts when he gets in the car, peeking an eye open to make sure it’s him before she snuggles back under the blanket he keeps in his backseat. His heart soars at how comfortable she is in his space. He wants to make a joke to hear her laugh, wants to tell her how beautiful she is so he can watch her cheeks turn pink, wants to press his lips to hers so he can find out what she tastes like.

He settles for taking a photo and sending it to Reuben, his fellow pilot responding with a crowd of laughing emojis followed by rows of kissy faces.

The drive to Mary’s house goes smoothly, and he feels less bad about waking her up this time. Her key is in her front pocket, and he can’t even think about trying to get it out.

Her hair has fallen from where he pushed it back earlier, and he can’t resist brushing it away again, letting his fingers run through her soft hair. “Mary, wake up; we’re home.”

She groans, pulling the blanket over her face. “No.”

Her petulance makes him laugh; he’s never seen her grumpy. Even at work, when she’s frustrated at schedule delays, she is mildly displeased, at worst.

“C’mon, honey. You gotta eat.” Her hair disappears, and he pulls out his trump card. “I got you mac and cheese.”

An eye appears as the blanket lowers, squinting at him in suspicion. “I didn’t ask for mac and cheese.”

“No, but you haven’t eaten since yesterday. You need more than just salad, even if you did get chicken on it.” He tugs on the edge of the blanket. “Come on, I’m hungry too; let’s go eat.”

Once inside, they move well together. Bradley pulls out food while Mary grabs utensils. She stops at the living room entrance, her mouth dropping open at the food spread across her coffee table. “What is all of this? There’s only two of us!”

“Well, there’s your salad and mac and cheese. I got a sandwich and chips. Plus, our cookies and drinks. And Reuben mentioned you didn’t get a chance to go grocery shopping, so I got you a bagel and sandwich for work tomorrow.”

“Bradley, that is so incredibly sweet of you, but this is too much. How much do I owe you?”

“Nothing, it was my treat.” He pats the couch next to him, “Sit. I wanna watch Parks and Rec.”

“Dinner was your treat. But the other food was not part of our agreement. So how much?”

“Mary, seriously, nothing. Come sit with me and eat.”

She huffs and plops down next to him, her thigh brushing his as she leans into him. “I will pay you back somehow.”

He wraps his arm around her shoulder, rubbing her arm as he teases her. “Would it kill you to just let me do something nice for you and say thank you?”

“Thank you, Bradley.”

“You’re welcome.” He unwillingly pulls away, handing her the bowl of mac and cheese, waiting until she has a full mouth to continue. “Also, I’m filling your Jeep up before I leave. And you will not fight me on it. You can pay me back for it later.”

“Yes, sir.” She mocks him, not catching his gulp as she laughs at Pawnee’s latest antics.

Four episodes later, with full bellies and the extra food stored in the fridge, Mary’s head drops onto Bradley’s arm. He peeks down at her, smiling at how her mouth forms a little circle, eyelashes fluttering against her cheeks.

“Mary.” She hums at him, trying to burrow deeper into his side. “I promise this’ll be the last time I wake you up today. But we can’t stay here, sweetheart; you should go sleep in your bed.”

“Don’t wanna move, I need to shower, and that requires too much energy.”

He pauses, forcing himself not to let the visual of her showering take its full form. “Well, I can’t help you with that one. But how about you relax while I get gas, and when I get back, you get in the shower and go to bed?”

“God, I hate when you think logically. Let me grab the keys.” She sighs, dragging herself up and into the kitchen. “Here, this one is obviously the Jeep, and this is the house key, just in case I’ve fallen asleep by the time you get back.”

He laughs, admiring her where she’s lounging on the couch, wiggling her fingers at him as he locks the door behind him. Her car is an overload for his senses; the interior smells like her perfume, subtle and flowery with a hint of orange. He has to push the seat all the way back so he can fit behind the wheel.

He thinks about her the entire time he’s pumping gas. How caring she is, how smart, how beautiful. He’s been working up the courage to ask her out, and it seems like everyone has given him a kick to just do it already. He wants to ask her, to take her out properly - dinner and a movie or something equally cliché for a first date. But every time he suggests coffee or lunch with just the two of them, hinting at it being more than friends, she turns it into a group affair.

Danielle and Reuben had been encouraging, telling him that he would have to be a bit patient, that Mary may not realize what she was doing. But he wasn’t convinced she wasn’t letting him down easily. Trying to brush him off because he wasn’t getting the hint.

On top of that, it felt like a bad time to ask her. With Christmas only a couple weeks away, parties and last-minute shopping and holiday travel is beginning to dominate everyone’s schedule. He didn’t want their first date to get lost in the hustle and bustle of the season.

I’ll ask her after the new year. He sets the goal as he re-enters her house.

He calls out for her, seeing the couch empty and the blankets back in their proper spots. Moving further into the house once he hears music playing. “Mary?”

He can hear water running as he moves toward the music. The shower. She's in the shower. He’s stuck in place. He’s trying to keep his imagination from running wild, but it’s hard when he can hear Mary humming along to his favorite Jim Croce song while she washes her hair.

He moves down the hall, awkwardly standing outside her open bedroom door. He croaks her name; she doesn’t hear him. He hesitantly shuffles into her room and parks himself in front of the cracked ensuite door as the water turns off.

Clearing his throat, “Mary?” His voice breaks like a teenager. He smacks himself.

The music lowers, “Bradley? You’re back?”

“Uhh- I- uhh- yeah. Filled the Jeep up and pulled it into the garage for you. I’m gonna take your house key with me so I can lock the front door and give it back to you tomorrow if that works?”

His eyes bounce between the floor and the door, waiting for her answer.

“That’s fine! Thank you so much for everything today, Bradley! I really appreciate you. Let me know what I owe you for the gas!”

“Will do. I’m gonna head out unless you need something else?”

“No, I’m all set. You did a good job taking care of me.” The door opens, and she’s standing there in a baby blue robe, hair wrapped in a towel. Her face is fresh, if tired, and she looks more relaxed than he’s seen her in a week.

“Feel better?”

She hums, leaning against the doorframe. “It’s amazing how showers can make everything better. Seriously, Bradley, thank you for everything you did. It’s going to make tomorrow so much easier.”

“Any time. You just let me know when you need something, Mary.” She smiles up at him, the dimple in her chin pops out, and he feels butterflies erupt. “I’m gonna head out, still taking your key, though. You finish getting ready for bed. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

She leans into the kiss he presses on her forehead, eyes closed for a moment after he pulls away. “Night, Bradley.”

“G’night, honey.”

She stays leaning against the doorframe as she listens to him pull his shoes on and lock the door behind him. She can faintly hear the door of the Bronco closing after he gets in, completely unaware that his thoughts match hers.

Fuck.

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#top gun maverick fic #top gun maverick au #top gun maverick imagine #top gun fic #top gun au #top gun imagine #bradley rooster bradshaw fic #bradley bradshaw fic #bradley rooster bradshaw x oc #bradley bradshaw x oc #bradley bradshaw imagine #rooster imagine #DSS universe #MM fic #elle writes #mar[r]y me fic

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ellethespaceunicorn · 1 year

Text

Bright Like The Moon: Chapter 10

Chapter 10: Something Tells Me You Know What I Mean

Rating: Explicit, 18+, Minors - DNI

Fandom: Night Hunter

Pairing: Walter Marshall x Black!OFC

Word count: 5.5K

Summary: Kamaria Mansfield is hired at the Minnesota Police Department as an intern. Detective Walter Marshall is overworked and unsatisfied. Takes place post-film.

Chapter Summary: Walter and Kamaria have had a rocky road back uphill, will they get to even ground or will it crumble beneath their feet?

Chapter warnings: mentions of past trauma (abduction/SA from last chapter), police interrogation, yelling, Daddy kink, dacryphilia, oral (m receiving), unprotected p-in-v sex, fingering (anal - f receiving), creampie, double creampie

A/N: I’m not a detective or a lawyer, I don’t know the law, I just write fanfiction. So, don’t use my work as research material. Also, there is a special guest. Oh, wait there are two special guests! Un-beta’d, we die like people who tried their best.

Dividers: @firefly-graphics

Support/Reblog banner by me

Cover Art by me, model for Cover Art credits

Cross-posted on AO3

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Kamaria’s POV

One Month Later

“I have to say you are making leaps and bounds these days, Kamaria. I’m proud of you,” Yada sits in her armchair, smiling at me and I can’t help but return it, “Are you proud of yourself?”

“I…am, yeah,” I rub my hands together while trying to get my words to flow, “I’ve been through a lot in the last month or so. My abduction and assault were a blow to my spirit. But, I’ve done the work to help with the anxiety.”

“You have definitely done some work with your anxiety. Just looking at you, your shoulders aren’t slumped and you look relaxed. How about sleeping and eating? I was worried for a while about nightmares keeping you up. It also crossed my mind that this incident might trigger a relapse in your eating disorder.” Yada’s face is one of support, but I can see her genuine concern for me.

“The nightmares have gotten better. When I’m woken up, I do my breathing exercises and I’m usually able to get right back to sleep. I eat three meals a day now. It’s nice to feel hungry again and not just be forcing myself to eat. I’ve identified my triggers in movies and tv so I can judge what’s ok for me to watch. I start back to work next week, which is awesome. Still having trouble with crowds though. I mean, I have Walter there so I feel like I have an anchor but I haven’t been alone in a crowd.” As I mention Walter, that little thought in the back of my mind crawls its way to the front of my consciousness.

Maybe she won’t ask me about it this time?

“So, speaking of Walter, how’s your intimacy?”

Damn it!

“We make out like teenagers behind bleachers. He’s still my cuddly grumpy bear,” I slowly shake my head as I look down, preparing myself to unleash my emotions, “I love Walter. I do. He started going to a therapist to deal with how this all affected him. I’m so proud of him for that, that man is not vocal. I mean, yeah, with me he won’t shut up. But with strangers, he keeps everything so close to the chest.”

“Have you not noticed any changes in his demeanor?”

“He’s become able to talk with me about what happened. I mean, before? He would walk on eggshells around me like I was this fragile porcelain doll. After some yelling from me, he agreed that he wasn’t dealing with what happened and he started therapy. But, I don’t know how to like, ask him for more.”

“More?”

“I don’t know how to convince Walter that I’m ready to have sex. He seems like he wants to. But he always stops right before we would usually…‘go all the way’.” Getting frustrated, I end it there.

“You haven’t had sex of any kind?” Thanks for being blunt, Yada.

“Well, we have. Technically. He has gone down on me a few times. But when I ask to return the favor, he usually just says he’s fine or that I don’t have to. And, I’m just salivating these days because I can see that he’s aroused and he won’t let me touch him. I don’t want to force him to tell me what’s stopping him. But I’m worried that it’s something I’m doing that is holding him back. I’m five seconds away from just jumping on him while naked but I don’t want to scare him. And that’s not me putting down my body, I’m just saying coming at him like that might be a little…much.”

“This may seem intense but, have you considered asking him what troubles him?” When I open and close my mouth like a fish gasping for air, she continues, “Great. That’s your homework, then.” Yada takes out her notebook and writes something down before getting up to go around to her desktop computer.

My eyes are following her, my brow creasing, “So just…ask him about it?”

“Yup. Ask him what’s holding him back from allowing himself to be touched. Tell him you want to touch him. Tell him the truth, that you miss that part of your relationship. And ask him what you can do to help. Be comforting, be there for him like he’s been there for you, and be your genuine self.”

“Cool, cool, cool, cool, cool. Just inform him that I miss his dick and ask him what I can do to make touching it again a reality. Perfect, I got this.” I slap a fake smile on my face and give a thumbs-up to Yada.

“Fake smile or not, you can handle this. Remember to breathe and take your time. Any answer he may give you could be triggering, so pace yourself and remember your coping skills.”

I nod, not really feeling like talking anymore.

We finish up the session and say our goodbyes. As I leave her office, I steel my features and make it to the hallway where Walter sits and reads from his phone.

Oh, did I not mention that he won’t let me go anywhere by myself? Yeah. He’s become my shadow.

“Hey baby, you ready?” I say, grabbing his hand as he reaches it out to me. I must have let a bit of emotion slip through because I can see the gears working behind his smile.

As we walk to the exit, Walter speaks, “You have homework concerning me, don’t you?”

I stop walking and gulp nervously, shifting from foot to foot.

“So, that’s a yes. Don’t worry, I can’t hear what happens in Yada’s office. You just have a tell when you have to talk to me about something, that’s all.”

My dumb ass actually waits for him to tell me what my giveaway is, we end up in the parking lot before I realize he’s not saying anything. “Gonna keep that to yourself, then?”

“Of course!” He chuckles, pulling me to him so he can plant a kiss on my temple.

“Fine, don’t tell me,” I pout, getting into the truck, “But, there better be ice cream in the near future.”

He smiles at me, tilting his head and saying nothing but closing the door. Putting on my seatbelt, I grumble to myself as he is getting into the truck. That little shit!

“I’m sorry? I didn’t quite catch that.” I freeze and look up to see a stern Daddy's face.

“I’m sorry!” I scramble to recover, not wanting to say what I said under my breath.

“Hm. Sounded something like ‘See if I will get any ice cream after that outburst’? But, that can’t be right.” He adopts a confused expression, then looks at me with a hint of fire in his eyes.

“I’m sorry, Daddy.”

“Good girl. Now, let’s go home for lunch and see if you can’t earn yourself a treat.” He reaches over and pats my thigh before giving it a squeeze in one large paw.

The noise I make is somewhere between a whimper and a moan. And judging by the look on Walter’s face as he starts the car, he enjoyed the sound. He spends the entire ride with his hand on my thigh, and it’s glorious feeling the heat emanating from his hand.

Walter’s POV

After a simple yet hearty lunch, we settle down on the couch. She hasn’t brought up her homework yet, which means it’s going to be a tough conversation. It’s not as if I’m looking forward to having this interaction, but the sooner it is over the sooner we can move forward.

If I were a betting man, I would put money on it that she wants to talk about our sex life. Or rather, my inability to give myself to her as of late. She won’t like the reason why and I’ll have to take what she dishes out on that front.

I did something she asked me not to do and now I have to tell her.

I spoke to her attacker. Technically.

Walter’s POV

Three Weeks Ago

It’s been about a week since…the incident. Kam is taking this all in stride, from therapy appointments to meetings with the legal team. With the evidence collected, it’s pretty much an open-and-shut case to get both of these men in prison.

Justin is being charged with drug possession and being an accomplice in the kidnapping. But her captor is being charged with criminal sexual conduct in the second degree, rape in the second degree, and kidnapping in the second degree.

I am off of the case, per the department and Kamaria herself. I’m too close to it. I know that. I understand that I have a stake in this. The love of my life was hurt by these men, and all I want is to see them come to justice.

Seeing her in that hospital bed broke me. Talking to that little shit who somehow thinks he and Kam are in love? While he might have lost the plot, he’s a delusional kid at best and a misguided psychopath at worst. He’s in custody and he’s cooperating with us which is all I care about right now.

Well, not all I care about. The other one is on my mind nonstop. The mastermind who somehow got help from a kid to commit atrocious crimes. The tosser who I’m told is complex, charismatic, and calculating. I was specifically told by Kam to not get involved. I was officially told by Harper to stay out of it.

And I didn’t engage. Technically.

It’s a particularly taxing day and I barely slept a wink the night before. Nightmares were keeping Kam awake and I stay up with her so she isn’t alone. The lack of sleep could have accounted for what happened, but let’s be honest I would have done the same damn thing on a full night’s sleep.

I was walking to the men’s room when there was a commotion down the hall. It sounded like it was coming from interrogation and I felt like being nosy.

I wish I never walked down that hall.

I see Commissioner Harper exiting Interrogation Room 2 but he doesn’t see or hear me approaching. A uniformed officer stands at the door, his eyes flitting between Harper and myself. He clears his throat in a vain attempt to subtly announce my presence.

Harper turns and notices me, coming to turn me back in the other direction. I make it to the window before he’s able to stop me from looking in. I recognize Rachel sitting with her back to the window, but the person she’s talking to looks unfamiliar. He looks like an arsehole, that mustache belongs in a bad 70s porno.

“Who’s the–” I begin, but Harper stops me.

“Detective, turn around right now. You don’t want to be here.” He points a finger in the other direction and I’m confused for a moment before clarity washes over me.

“Why don’t–,” It feels like slow motion as I look back to the window and it clicks into place, “Is that him?”

The way he looks down, pinching the bridge of his nose, means my suspicion is confirmed.

Turning back to the window, I clench my jaw and stare ahead at the son-of-a-bitch. I can feel my hands start to tremble, and the adrenaline of rage courses through my veins. Only one thing can help release all of this pent-up energy. As if he could read my mind, I hear Harper speak up.

“Marshall, don’t even think about it.” He doesn’t sound very convincing, does he?

“I promise I won’t touch him, I won’t even say a word,” I plead with him to let me in, “I just need to look into his eyes.” My voice starts to crack at the end and I feel like I could scream.

“Don’t make me regret this,” He signals to the officer to step aside, “And I mean it, not a fucking word.” I nod and we walk in catching the end of a conversation.

“...and then that goddamn kid goes and falls for the girl. I wake up and they’re both gone! Police jammin’ me up over a fuckin’ skirt? Such bullshit! This wasn’t even on me. There’s no point for me to lie, I know you have Justin here somewhere. He’s told you plenty I’m sure.” As if he was so enthralled in his own story, he turns to look at us finally as Harper takes a seat next to Rachel and I remain standing and crossing my arms. His face peels into a shit-eating grin when he settles on me.

Rachel looks up at me and then to Harper who holds up a hand. I see her tense before moving on. “When you say “this wasn’t on you”, what does that mean?”

“I get an envelope delivered to my door with a picture of this girl and a fat stack of cash. I could’ve just run off with the money, but I was promised more when the job was done.”

“What exactly was ‘the job’?”

I debated leaving at the point and well, hindsight is 20/20.

“Well, the job was to find Kamaria Mansfield. Find out if she was happy, and end that happiness. Seems like she’s a lot tougher than we thought, eh Walter?” He looks back up at me and winks, “Where are my manners? Lloyd Hansen, pleased to finally meet you face-to-face.”

“How do you know–” Rachel starts, but Hansen interrupts.

“Like I said, sweetheart. The job was to find the girl, and anywhere that Mary went, her lamb was sure to go. And by lamb, I mean this big lug over here. They spend almost every waking hour together, it would be cute if I didn’t have a job to do. So, she’s definitely happy. But! She’s dating a fucking detective and working in a fucking police station, so my options are limited. I follow her for weeks until he drives her to meet with her friends at some stupid little club. Luckily, I knew I could overpower her, but it was best to make sure she wouldn’t fight me. And that’s where Justin comes in.” He stops to catch his breath, then starts again.

“Now, Justin…lives with me. Met him online, only knows me as Sir. That boy is a pretty little thing and he has his uses. Drugs and easy sex are about it, actually. I call him up and tell him to get an Uber to the club ‘cause we’re going to find me a girl. He had no clue about my job and he didn’t need to know. Sort of an unspoken ignorance is bliss type deal. Anyway, he gets to the club and I’ve been watching her all night. I wait until she’s dancing by herself. The other two chicks are at the bar being seduced by two lunkheads that look like they could benchpress a fucking cow. I make my way over to the girl and start grinding behind her. I figure she’s out on the town without the boyfriend, and dancing isn’t cheating so why not cut a rug? But she’s not into it and starts to try and get away, that little scamp. So I make sure I hold onto her tight while Justin gets in place to keep her distracted. He’s able to slip her the Molly. And it goes through her pretty quickly, probably due to the booze in her system. Pretty soon, she is all over Justin and he’s excited as hell until she starts to freak out, asking for Walter before she passes out. We get her to the van in the alley and we take her to where we stay.”

“And that’s the house near Twin Lakes Beach, off Route 69?” Rachel, ever the professional, tries to keep him talking.

“That’ll be the one. Had her for about a day and a half before I noticed her and Justin getting a little too chummy. I thought about killing her, but why murder when you can emotionally and physically scar someone? I made sure she’d never forget me, I made sure that what I did left a mark. She could never see it all as a bad dream, because she’ll have evidence that it all happened. From the pain in her pussy to the cuts from my butterfly knife on her hands and face, I’ll always be with her. And every time you look at her, Walter, you’ll be thinking of me, won’t you?” He was so pleased with himself. Perhaps he wanted to have this interaction with me all along, to rub it all in my face.

All I could see was red, my hands start to hurt from shaking so badly, and I knew I could pick him up and throw him just from the outrage in my veins. I keep my arms crossed because I knew if I lowered them, they would be reaching out for this arsehole. I wouldn’t have been able to stop myself at that moment. I don’t know how I managed to hold myself together at all.

Before I say or do something I regret, Harper stands and walks out of the room and drags me along with him. For a few moments, I’m stunned speechless. But that’s over soon enough.

“He knew her name, he knew she worked here, he knew me, and he knew we were dating. This means it wasn’t random. Which means someone wanted to purposefully hurt her. But who would want to hurt her?” As the question is coming out of my mouth, I think of one name.

Christopher.

The ex-boyfriend from college. The one who abused her, the one she hit over the head with a sculpture. But does he have the means, the motive, or the opportunity to hire someone to rough up his ex? And would bringing him into this put Kam at risk of being brought up on charges of assault? With so many variables, I do the only thing I could think to do.

I keep my fucking mouth shut. I tell Harper this is too much for me and I make a hasty exit.

Once I am back in my office, I call to check in on Kam and just hearing her voice keeps me calm. I manage to keep my voice steady and if she hears my voice falter, she doesn’t mention it. And I thank my lucky stars.

As we end the call, I think back to Lloyd’s words: “Every time you look at her, Walter, you’ll be thinking of me”.

The stuff of nightmares…

Kamaria’s POV

The Present

“Walter?” I wave my hand in front of his face, getting his attention, “You were certainly deep in thought.”

“Sorry, love. Just wondering what your homework is, is all.” He takes a deep breath and nudges me to speak.

“Well, it’s…I just,” I take a beat, chewing on my lip, “Walter, I…fuck, this is suddenly really difficult to talk about.”

He puts a hand over my fidgeting fingers and instantly soothes me.

“Um, ok. I’ll just come out with it then. I miss being intimate with you. I miss touching you. And I want you to know that I love when you eat me out. Trust me, I absolutely go nuts for it. But, you don’t let me return the favor. And we haven’t had sex in about a month. I just, want to know what I can do to make you feel comfortable. I’m just hoping it isn’t something I’m doing to keep you away–”

“No, no, no. Kam, it’s not you. I’m so sorry that I even made you feel like it was something you did,” He turns and faces me while sitting on the couch, “I have to tell you something and you’re not going to like it. But it will explain why I’ve been the way I have been.”

I push down the immense fear that he’s leaving me, my abandonment issues rearing their ugly head yet again. I nod for him to continue to avoid the threat of my voice cracking when I speak.

“I know you told me not to get involved in your case. But something happened a few weeks ago and you deserve to know about it.” The grave look on his face has me worried.

“What happened?”

He proceeds to launch into a retelling of what my attacker said to him. From being given “the job” to following us and watching me in the club. It hurt to hear that Walter was given all this information. Just to hurt him. But, as mad as I am at Lloyd for what he did to me, I feel just as furious at Walter for keeping all of this a secret for almost a month.

“So, let me get this straight. You’ve been hurting in silence and didn’t think, not even once, to share this with me? Just leaving me thinking it’s my fault that you don’t want to have sex with me? But it’s the words of a sociopath that you chose to cling to. What happened to ‘we’re in this together’?”

“We are in this together. I just thought I could handle it.”

“Handle it?!” I untangle myself from him and get up from the couch to start pacing, my anger bubbling inside me, “How do you expect to handle something like that without actually fucking handling it with me or your therapist? Fucking anyone!”

He pinches the bridge of his nose, releasing a heavy breath through his nostrils. “How could I have told you then? It had been less than a week since you got out of the hospital. If I brought this up, it would have seriously affected your progress and I couldn’t do that to you.”

“Oh, thank you for waiting to tell me until I had to practically reach inside you and pull out this information. You’re letting him get to you, don’t give him that power. I’m telling you that from a victim’s perspective. Yes, he hurt us, but if we dwell on that, we’re letting him win.”

“Just knowing what he looks like, having him tell me to my face what he did to you. It took everything out of me not to thrash him. I wanted to kill him. That anger…it’s never left me. I just push it down. I just…” An inhuman grunt escapes him and it goes straight to my core.

“Stop pushing it down.”

He wipes a hand down his face and looks up at me. “What do you mean?”

“Something tells me you know exactly what I mean…Daddy.”

“I’m too wound up for that, I don’t want to hurt you, baby.”

“I’m not afraid that you’ll hurt me,” I kneel in front of where he sits on the couch, “I’m afraid that you won’t.”

A shuddering breath leaves Walter before he leans forward and grabs a fistful of my hair, pulling my head back to expose my neck. “Does Princess need a little pain from Daddy?”

“Yes, Daddy,” I let the emotion inside me escape as tears down my face, “Please hurt me.”

“Fuck you look beautiful when you cry for me, Princess,” He releases my hair and leans back to unbutton and unzip his jeans, his thick and hard dick springing out. He reaches a hand to my face to wipe my tears and with that same hand he starts to jerk his dick, “Come suck your tears off Daddy’s dick, Princess.”

I’ve never thrown myself on a dick so fast. I don’t take my time, I’ve missed it too much. I suck him down, my tongue massaging the underside of his dick. The sounds coming out of him were so rewarding and I could feel the wetness already gathering in my folds. I clench my legs together to keep focused but it only made me moan around his length.

Gathering all my hair in one hand, he holds me steady so he could fuck my face and I couldn’t be happier. The heavy weight of him on my tongue, the drool leaking from the sides of my mouth, my gagging sounds when he hits my uvula.

It’s too much and I try and move a hand down into my panties but I’m stopped when Walter pulls my head off of him quickly. I sputter and cough, wiping at the drool on my lips.

“Awwww does Princess need attention on her little pussy?” I nod, as he jerks himself in my face, “Panties off, come up here so you can suck Daddy’s dick and I can play with that pretty pussy.”

I pull my skirt up and pull down my panties, shucking them…somewhere behind me. I get down on all fours with my ass up, leaning down on my elbows. Walter lands some seriously mighty smacks to my ass and stifles my moans by shoving my head down on his length.

He snakes a hand to my clit and rolls it between his thumb and forefinger. I groan into his dick and feel him twitch in my mouth. I sink down on him, letting him repeatedly into my throat for as long as he can handle it. Which ends up being long enough that my throat hurts.

The man hasn’t fucked me in a month but has this kind of stamina, must be all the anger coursing through him.

“Fuck, Princess…need to have this pussy in my mouth before I fuck it,” He starts to get up and I go to move but he stops me, “You stay right where you are, baby,” He moves behind me on the couch, pushing my front all the way down so my pussy is exposed under my plump ass, “Fuck, so fucking wet for me already, Princess. Such a good girl for Daddy.”

He flattens his tongue and licks from my clit to my entrance, Stiffening his tongue, he fucks into me while his thumb rubs my clit. I push back on him, riding his tongue until I feel that familiar tension.

“Daddy, please may I cum?”

“Be a good girl and cum on Daddy’s tongue, Princess.” That’s when he decides to push his tongue as far as it will get into my cunt. I can feel him licking my walls.

Oh, he’s really eating me out now.

“Fuck fuck fuuuuuuuck,” I feel the knot tighten then release as I cum over my tongue and lips. My legs shake as I come down and I don’t notice Walter getting into position behind me.

I’m so tight and hot after cumming that he has to push in a few times before my pussy lets him in all the way. But once he’s nestled inside, we both groan at the feeling. Me from the fullness, him from the snug fit.

Pulling most of the way out, he pushes in slowly. He picks up the pace as he goes, his big paws holding my cheeks apart so he can see the grip I have on him.

“Fuck, I love fucking this pussy, Princess,” He slams into me so deep and fast that I wonder how the fuck he’s doing it, “But this little knot keeps winking at me. I think it wants some attention too.”

“You wanna play with my ass, Daddy?” We’ve never done that before and I’m so turned on and feeling fucked out enough already that I would let him do anything.

“That’s my good girl,” I hear him spit and feel it land on my ass. His thumb circles my knot before dipping in a few times, each time further in than the last until he’s to the knuckle. Holding his finger there, he starts to fuck me again. I feel his dick stretching my cunt and his thumb testing my asshole. “You’re doing so well, baby. We have to get you a plug for this tight ass, keep it ready for me all the time. Fuck I can’t wait to fuck your ass…fucking cum in it and plug you so you keep it all day long. You like that idea, Princess?”

“Yes, Daddy. Want your cum in all my holes.” At this point, my legs have begun to shake again telling me my next orgasm is close.

“Such a good little cumslut you are. You look so good, so full of me right now. Sweet little cunt is full of cock and tight little ass is stuffed. Is Princess gonna cum on Daddy’s cock?” His breathing is labored and his thrusts are getting sloppy.

“Cum with me Daddy. Fill me up!” I push back on his dick so he goes even deeper and I can feel him kissing my cervix with the tip of his dick. “Right there, right there, right there!” With one hand on my clit, I feel the rush of my orgasm as it floods over my fingers.

“That’s it, Princess. Fuck, it’s so…fucking hot…when you…squirt!” His words stutter as he chases his own release and fills me with a load so warm and plentiful that it leaks out past his dick and soaks the couch. Thank goodness this thing is so easy to clean. Between my pussy juices and his jizz, we have got a mess on our hands.

He pulls his finger out of my ass, then pulls his dick out and watches for a beat as his cum dribbles out. I know that’s his favorite part. He disappears into the kitchen and I hear the faucet turn on as he washes his hands. He comes back with one of his dish towels in his hand.

“You’re gonna get a boner every time you use that from now on.” I manage to squeak out before the warm towel touches my sensitive holes.

“Wouldn’t that be a shame?” He lays a quick smack on my ass before wiping the couch down as well. He lifts me off the couch and holds me bridal style, walking to the bedroom. “I don’t feel like showering right now, but you are more than welcome to.” He sets me down on my feet, kissing the top of my head.

We lay in bed for a while, not caring about his cum leaking out of me onto the sheets. We lazily kiss and hold each other and it’s nice.

“So we had our first fight…and it actually ended in makeup sex.” I kiss the corner of his mouth as he smiles.

“Let’s not make that a habit, though, Princess.”

“Well, I mean, maybe if you didn’t keep a secret then I wouldn’t have had to–”

“Princess?”

“Yes?”

“Is Daddy forgiven?” His tongue snakes out over his bottom lip and I know he did that to seduce me.

“I forgive you, Daddy,” He kisses my forehead. “And I love you, Daddy,” He kisses my nose. “And Daddy loves me too.” He smiles as he kisses my lips, reserved at first until I feel his tongue begging for entrance. Opening my mouth, I let him take the lead as he massages my tongue with his.

His hand glides from my cheek down my neck to my arm, finally landing under my knee to pull my leg up and open. As he slides in between my legs, I reach up and tangle my fingers in his messy and sweaty head of curls.

I don’t even care that he is trying to shut me up by kissing me. He’s so fucking good at it!

He reaches down to free his already half-hard dick and he teases it on my clit before using our combined juices as lube, entering me again hard and fast. When I break the kiss to try and catch my breath, he takes that as a sign.

Sitting up on his knees, he opens my legs wider than I’ve ever had them and proceeds to make me forget all about that silly fight.

Wait…what fight?

“Such a good girl taking Daddy’s cock so well. Just need you to cum once for me, Princess. Then Daddy’s gonna fill you up.” The sounds my pussy makes while he pounds into me mixed with the visual of watching his dick slide in and out of me has me quaking in minutes. “That’s it, baby. Just like that. Fuck, I’m gonna cum.”

I feel his dick pulsating and twitching inside me and I catch him as he collapses on top of me. Any other time, I’m sure this weight would be uncomfortable. But, right now? All I can feel is a fucked out man who can’t get enough of me.

I wrap my arms and legs around him as he focuses on his breathing.

“Fuck, baby. I must be crushing you. Let me–”

“One more minute, please?”

“Hmmm.” He settles back in and starts to kiss up and down my neck.

“Okay, if you start doing that, we are gonna spend the whole damn weekend in this bed and we have plans, remember?” He keeps kissing and nipping at my spot and just like magic, I can feel myself forgetting all about…

…what was I saying?

Chapter 11

A/N1: The title of this chapter is taken from Vain by KIRBY. It is such a good song, give it a listen!

A/N2: Did you like my special guest? Lloyd Hansen, everybody!!

**Tag List**

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@enchantedbytomandhenry @astheskycries @rebelangel1102

@deandoesthingstome @liveoncoffeeandflowersss @foxyjwls007 @rosiesluv7 @livisss @slut4henrycavilll

Let me know if you wanna be added (or removed) 😁

#walter marshall #walter marshall fanfic #walter marshall x black!plus size female #walter marshall x black!plus size female oc #walter marshall x ofc #walter marshall x black!ofc #ellethespaceunicorn fanfic #henry cavill fanfiction #henry cavill fanfic #henry cavill #walter marshall fanfiction #walter marshall fic #night hunter #night hunter fanfic #night hunter fanfiction #bright like the moon

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scorchedhearth · 2 years

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Day. 11 “911, WHAT’S YOUR EMERGENCY?”

Sloppy Bandages | Self-Done First Aid | Makeshift Splint

Stupid. He’s been so goddamn stupid and now he’s paying the price.

Stupid to think he’d get what he wants, stupid to think Bruce would ever give this to him, stupid to ever hope, ever think it would end any other way. Would end without him waking up in the ruins of his plans, dust and concrete clinging to his lungs as Batman rises two stories above him, without as much as a look toward him.

Jason still doesn’t know how he did it, much less why he’s still alive. All he knows is that he stumbles into one of the few safehouses that hasn’t been broken in quite yet with a hand clinging to his throat and the other curled into a tight fist. It’s all a blur, like a movie playing in front of his eyes as he shuffles around the room, retrieving the first aid kit and shucking off his jacket. When they broke into the room, the Joker’s laughter, Batman standing still, like a damn statue, Jason talking, begging, threatening a reaction out of him. What a fool he’s been.

The reflection he catches in the bathroom mirror feels like a ghost, covered in white dust and eyes wide, hollowed out. He slowly peels his hand and the piece of fabric away from his neck, lets his eye fall to the deep gash slicing the flesh. It’s deep, and it hasn’t stopped bleeding but it’s nowhere near enough what amount of blood should be trickling down from this kind of wound.

Dirty fingers prod at it, push and tug, a sort of morbid curiosity has him pulling the edge away and looking inside the flesh, the arteries and ligaments that haven’t been cut, despite the flesh being neatly sliced. It’s only then that he registers the pain, the burning sensation radiating from the wound all through his shoulder and down his neck, worsening by the second.

Jason hisses and pulls his hand away. He knows bandages won’t cut it, and there’s no anesthetic in this kit, only painkillers he’s dry swallowed already. He can almost hear Alfred’s voice as he pulls off his shirt and washes his hands. They’ve all had first aid and health lessons from him, how to take care of yourself, how to eat and sleep properly, as well as the basics of caring for wounds. He hears his instructions, scrubbing the back of the hands and nails well before handling anything that has to touch an open wound.

“Fuck off,” he hisses and bites down on his tongue, tilts his head to the side for good measure, and lets the pain pull him into the moment, away from his traitorous mind. He prepares everything, alcohol wipes, antiseptic, the thread and needles and pliers, lay everything neatly on the sink, stops only when he notices the shakes in his hands.

The adrenalize, he bitterly thinks. The tremours do not stop, nor do they lessen, not when he spends a minute slowly his breath and focusing on it, not even when he picks up the wipes and starts cleaning the cut, biting back a hiss as the sensation as he pulls on the wound and cleans the inside as much as he can. If anything, the pain and minute task worsen the shakes, hands barely able to hold the gauze. Still, he’s got a job to do, no way past this.

Jason pointedly avoid his gaze in the mirror as he brings the needle into his skin and thread it through, stopping mid-way to hiss out a breath and let the fire shoot up his neck into his jaw, doing his best to ignore the pain. He focuses on his breath, slowly in and out, and soon enough he slips out of his mind, beyond pain and grief and only in the now. He carries on with determined hands, stitching the gaping hole near his neck in record time, perfunctory and jagged but enough for what it’s supposed to do: keep him from bleeding out.

When he looks up, his head feels settled, and quiet, not run through by thoughts that had been parasitising him this entire night. The line of the wound is enough for him to know it’ll scar, something big and angry, and all he can think is good. He dresses the wound, sticks a thick bandage over it and pulls his shirt back on. He sneaks a glimpse at his own face and realizes he’s been crying. Thick tracks run down both of his cheeks, his eyes red-rimmed and glossy with tears. He wipes them with the back of his hand, runs a wet hand down his face for good measure before leaving the bathroom.

No point in staying here, he can feel sorry for himself later. For now, he’s gotta get out of here, and fast. Find his go-bag, his burner phone and a car to get him out of gotham, at least until he recovers enough. The shakes in his hands haven’t stopped and he knows the weak feeling in his knees is moderate blood loss, which will take him a few days to push through and get back to full form.

But he can’t get his feet to move, eyes stuck to the mirror. To his face, the remanent’s of bruce in his eyes and hair, in the high cheeks they share, in the haunted pain in the shadows on their faces. He’s not sure how much time passes before he can get his fingers to curl and pushes the switch off, effectively breaking his line of sight with himself.

Anger is good, hate is fuel but right now, he doesn’t feel any of those. He feels hollowed, carved from the inside out by the hand of the one he called father. So close, yet he’s never been so far away from him. His neck burns as Jason finds his way out of the flat, a reminder here to stay.

#wt22 #jason todd #dc #dont know how i feel about this one but i love the implications of the neck wound even if i think it's bullshit and bruce shouldnt shoot #him like that. it make for good angst tho

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whumpdoyoumean · 1 year

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A/N: Surprise! A third and final part to my Fire Country tag!

part 1 part 2

xxx

“I’m riding with him.”

“Gabby…” Manny begins.

“No! If you fight me on this you’re not going to win, so it would be easier for everyone if you just don’t even start!”

“Hey,” Jake says, and Gabby looks at him while Manny watches her. There’s something in her face that Manny can’t identify exactly. She’s not asking for Jake’s permission, but she is looking for something. Jake looks back at her for a moment, then shifts his gaze to Manny. “Let her go.”

Manny’s eyebrows jump, eyes widening, even as Gabby’s expression shifts to one of determination and a hint of satisfaction. Whatever she’d been searching for in Jake, she’d found it. Manny wants to argue. If the worst happens in that ambulance and Gabby is there to see it, he’ll never forgive himself. But if the worst happens and she isn’t there, then she’ll never forgive him. He sighs, pinches the bridge of his nose.

“Okay.”

Bode better not fucking die.

He and Jake and the other firefighters watch in silence as the unconscious Bode is loaded onto the ambulance, Gabby climbing in after him. The sirens start up again and Manny watches as it pulls away.

“Is he gonna be okay?” It’s one of Manny’s guys, Wes, that says it, and there’s a ripple of activity as the others echo the sentiment.

Manny doesn’t answer. He’s suddenly exhausted, the chaos of the last few minutes, hours, weeks hitting him all at once, and all he wants to do is go home and go to bed. He’s keenly aware of all of the eyes on him, and that only makes it worse.

“Of course he’ll be okay,” Freddy says, and Manny could kiss him. “It’s Bode.”

“Thank you,” Manny says under his breath, and Freddy nods, almost smiling though it doesn’t reach his eyes.

A thought occurs to Manny then, and a rock forms in the pit of his stomach. “Oh, shit.”

“You alright?” Jake asks.

Manny closes his eyes and lets out a long breath. “I’ve gotta tell his parents.”

“I’ll do it,” Jake says immediately, and Manny shakes his head.

“No. Thank you, but I can’t ask you to do that. I’m his captain.”

“And I’m his friend!” Jake looks as startled as Manny is when he says it, but he keeps going. “And you need to figure out where everyone is staying tonight.”

Manny hadn’t thought about that. He’d been so caught up with the fire, and then with Bode, he hadn’t stopped to consider the fact that their lodgings have sustained fire damage. Not that anyone’s going to be able to sleep after everything that’s happened. It’s going to take a lot of coordination to figure out what to do, and honestly the idea of not having to make that call is immensely appealing.

“Okay,” he says, but guilt is choking him and the word doesn’t come out. He swallows and says it again. “Okay.”

Jake nods and walks off a little ways, pulling out his phone. Manny takes his out, too. He’s got a lot to figure out and coordinate. Before he does, though, he listens.

“Hey, captain. Uh, Vince,” Jake says. “Yeah, the fire’s out, but um. I’m sorry. No, no it wasn’t--it wasn’t the fire, Odin…Bode was stabbed. He’s being taken to the hospital now, Gabby’s with him. I’m sorry.”

Jake apologizes again, and even with the distance Manny can hear the emotion rising in his voice, and Manny can’t listen anymore. He steps away and starts making phone calls.

xxx

Fighting fire isn’t an easy job. Vince had known that going into it. It’s hard on the mind, on the spirit. Those things get…not easier, not really. But one can build defenses. The older a firefighter is, the more equipped they are to handle the emotional hardships. Unfortunately, the opposite is true of the body. It’s a hard job even for young firefighters, and the older they get, well. It just gets harder.

And yet, after decades on the job, no week has ever left Vince as sore as these past few days have. Days and nights spent in plastic chairs and a tiny cot have done a number on his back, and combined with the lack of sleep and the fact that he’s hardly been eating, he feels and looks like death warmed over. It’s a small price to pay; it’s the only way he’s been able to get Sharon to go home and get real rest, though she still spends more time here than Vince would like.

Not that he can blame her. They’d almost lost Bode. He’d been in bad shape when he got to the hospital, had been in shock and needed a massive transfusion before being rushed into emergency surgery. The hours that had followed had been some of the most harrowing of Vince’s life. Sharon had been absolutely inconsolable, blaming herself for the attack and alternately crying and furious. Vince had just been terrified. Terrified that he was going to lose his remaining child, terrified that all the things he’s left unsaid will remain so forever.

And then the doctor had appeared, looking a bit worn down herself, and told them that Bode was alive, the source of the bleeding found and repaired.

“He has a long road ahead of him,” she’d said. “But he should make a full recovery.”

And they’ve been waiting for him to wake up ever since.

Vince has done more reading and sudoku in the last three days than in the rest of his life combined. He’d tried crosswords, but had turned out to be terrible at those. The sudoku sometimes make him want to pull his hair out, but at least he can puzzle out the answers and doesn’t need to know things like, Good as Hell singer or Star Trek actor Urban.

Sharon is home now doing a round of dialysis, but has vowed to come back as soon as she’s finished, ignoring Vince’s request that she take a nap after. Honestly, Vince will be glad of the company. The numbers are giving him a headache.

He’s just set his sudoku book down and is getting ready to go to the vending machine when he hears a sharp breath. He looks up to see Bode’s face slowly bunching into a frown, and he quickly scooches his chair forward and takes Bode’s hand in his own, careful of the IVs.

“Bode?” he says softly. “Bode, you with me?”

Bode’s eyes open a crack, his lips parting, and after a moment he says, “Dad?” His voice is quiet and scratchy from disuse. It makes him sound younger than he is, and it catches Vince off guard. There’s nothing he can do to stop the tears that spring into his eyes.

“Yeah. Yeah, son, it’s me. Do you know where you are?”

Bode nods once. “Hospital.”

“Yeah. Yeah, bud. It was, uh…It was a close call but you. You made it, so…”

Damn he wishes Sharon were here. He’s no good at this.

“Mom?” Bode asks.

“She’s okay. She’s home doing her treatment.” He’s surprised when Bode’s eyes fill with tears, and he adds quickly, “Hey, well she’ll be here before too long. A couple hours or so.”

“Odin--”

“Odin is in jail. He’s going away for a long, long time. You got nothing to worry about. Your mom, too.”

Bode sniffs and shakes his head slightly. “No, it’s--did…” He swallows. There’s an agonized look on his face. “Did he hit my kidney?”

Vince is only confused for a second before realization hits, and he shakes his head. “No, no, son. Nicked your spleen. You lost a hell of a lot of blood. But your kidneys are fine.”

Bode’s expression relaxes and he closes his eyes. Tears slip silently down his cheeks as he nods. “Good.”

Vince tightens his grip on Bode’s hand. “Bode?”

Bode opens his eyes.

“I need you to listen to me. And I mean--I mean really listen.”

Bode nods again.

“I…” Vince begins, and then stops. Why is this so hard? He takes a deep breath. “Shit, son. I’m really--really proud of you. All the work with Cal Fire, everything you’ve been doing with your mom…It’s been. It’s been really great watching you help people.”

The look of sheer surprise on Bode’s face causes a pang of guilt in Vince’s gut. He knows he doesn’t say these things much, but he didn’t know it was rare enough to cause this kind of reaction.

“Thanks, Dad.”

“I’m not finished,” Vince says. “I’m proud of you, but now you’re going to need to stop thinking so much about other people, including your mom, and just focus on you.”

He sees the doubt on Bode’s face and shakes his head.

“No, I mean it. If you really want to help your mother, then you need to heal. That has to come first, you understand me?”

“Yes sir,” Bode says. And then one corner of his mouth lifts into a smile. “Maybe you should take your own advice. All due respect, you look like shit.”

Vince laughs. “Yeah, you’re not wrong. I look forward to sleeping in my own bed tonight.”

Bode’s face shifts. “You been sleeping here?”

Vince shrugs, suddenly embarrassed. He rubs at the back of his head with his free hand. “Yeah.”

“You didn’t have to do that.”

Vince shrugs again. “Yes, I did. You’re my son. And I love you. I’m--I’m glad you’re okay.”

Bode smiles. He looks tired, and like he may fall back asleep any second, but he says, “I love you too, Dad. Sorry if I scared you.”

“Of course you didn’t scare me,” Vince says. “But never do that again.”

But Bode’s already drifted off.

xxx

#my writing #my fic #fire country #fire country fic #fire country spoilers #1x11 #fire country mama bear #bode donovan #bode donovan whump #whump #whump fic #manny perez #vince leon #hospital #comfort #hurt/comfort

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